


The Lady Doth Protest

by pentuppen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ahhhh just read the damn thing it's been sitting in my docs for weeks..., Dark blackwall / thom ?, Decide For Yourselves, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fairly sure I'm going to hell, Post Trevelyan figuratively kicking thom in the proverbial nuts in front of everyone..., Pure smut with a threadbare plot!, look i dont know how to define this con, maybe-con, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentuppen/pseuds/pentuppen
Summary: Ok so this blasted thing came from a list of prompts i wrote for myself ages ago. This is why i shouldn't be allowed to prompt myself by the way, so if you don't want to read more fics like this, help a girl out, I need more short fic prompts to fill my Long-fic hiatus!  (No im not abandoning solas and levallan but new job requires adjustment period)This is only 'sort of' a part one because i have no idea if i should finish it, christ i have no idea if i should have started it. So i shall let you all decide, if the tumbleweeds start blowing in the wake of this thing, i'll know to leave it well enough alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this blasted thing came from a list of prompts i wrote for myself ages ago. This is why i shouldn't be allowed to prompt myself by the way, so if you don't want to read more fics like this, help a girl out, I need more short fic prompts to fill my Long-fic hiatus! (No im not abandoning solas and levallan but new job requires adjustment period)
> 
> This is only 'sort of' a part one because i have no idea if i should finish it, christ i have no idea if i should have _started_ it. So i shall let you all decide, if the tumbleweeds start blowing in the wake of this thing, i'll know to leave it well enough alone.

He watched her mingle with the sycophantic ranks of nobles and dignitaries alike, a glittering array of strutting peacocks and bejewelled swans, all of them speaking from behind masks, whether they wore them on their faces or behind their lying eyes. Barely a year ago these self important pricks wouldn’t have pissed on her if she were on fire, let alone given the Inquisition aid. Now that she had secured victory against Corypheus, they had all crawled out of the woodwork to hastily ally themselves with the strongest rising power in Thedas, it was easy enough to despise them for this alone. That any one of them would be prepared to wield the knife at her back if opportunity made such an action more profitable, only made matters worse when he saw her move amongst them as if she were part of them.

 

He knew she wasn’t so naive as to trust them, or even believe she was one of them, but it took very little to offend his sensibilities where she was concerned these days, watching her parade around like one of these Orlesian pissants was just one among many things that stirred the burning coals in his gut. Watching her play the part they had set out for her disgusted him, and sometimes he has to check whether her limbs weren’t attached to strings, their ends held in the hands of her advisers who had no doubt arranged this banquet as a means to gather more support.

 

But even as he pulled himself further into the corner by the hearth, he knew that it wasn’t the nobles and their false admiration that bothered him the most, nor was it the machinations of Evelyn’s inner circle, or even the fact that he felt like a rusted copper dropped amongst the shining golden graces of high society, though this last does add a keen edge to his deepening mood. Even the Iron Bull was better at assimilating himself than he was, though in the Qunari’s defence, he was hard for even the highest upturned nose to ignore, and most would think twice and perhaps even a third time before insulting a man who could likely crack a walnut if he sneezed too hard while holding one in his fist.

 

Yet he can accept his lack of social graces, even revel in them as Sera often did, and so the quick glances in his direction, and the whispers passed behind hands and unfurled fans were only minor irritations. What really threw the oil onto those smouldering coals, was the dress.

 

That fucking dress, and the fact that she hadn’t thought twice about wearing it here and now.

 

He watched another nobleman bow to scrape his lips over the back of her hand and he felt both sickened and slightly smug as he wondered how the noble might react if he knew that very same hand had once fumbled desperately for his cock as he’d hiked all that lilac silk to her waist and held her screams behind his own hand while he’d fucked her in the shadows of the Winter Palace’s lush gardens. The satisfaction this thought brings is thin and insubstantial however, and it failed to soothe the burn of watching her laugh that coquettish laugh and actually bat her lashes at the man.

 

This was not the Allegra he loved, not the Allegra he’d begun to crave at an almost obsessive level, and it wasn’t even close to the woman that had unknowingly shamed him into confessing his darkest of deeds. This was Allegra playing ‘the game’, something she had once viewed with the utmost disdain, and only the possible assassination of the Empress had forced her hand into playing along the first time. Now she played along all too well and perhaps a little too willingly for his liking. They could dress her up and make the occasion sound official with words like ‘diplomatic liaison’, but you didn’t need to screw for a handful of silvers to be a whore.

 

She turned to speak to Dorian as he alighted at her side, the dress swaying artfully with this small movement and he was viciously reminded of how that silk had felt bunched up in his hands, how she had bit her lip and grinned like a she-wolf when she noted the dirt and the bruises that had marred her hallowed skin after their romp in the palace gardens. Oh how he had wanted to let her howl that night, he’d wanted every blighted noble and dignitary to witness her banshee shriek as he plowed and rutted that ‘sacred’ flesh into submission.

 

Did she even know what she was doing to him? If she didn’t, that was almost worse than a calculated act of cruelty because it meant that she had forgotten or forced the events of that night from her mind, much as she had done with the rest of the remnants of their brief relationship, forcing it to the back of her mind as she had looked down at him from her throne and passed her judgements.

 

He had given her his true name and she had handed him back his heart with a frozen speech and an empty stare that had almost succeeded in crushing what was left of his pride.

 

Almost.

 

She had forgotten, but he remembered every little detail of who she really was. She believed herself secure enough to forget because it had never occurred to her to believe him when he had told her he wasn’t a good man. Oh he had tried, and for a good while she had made trying worth it, made him think he really could be a better man, so much so that he had actually walked towards his own probable death in order to honour the faith she’d had in him. He would have died for her, he _should_ have died for her, but she would not leave well enough alone and he had been dragged back in chains to be stood beneath her austere gaze. He’d been angry, but even the anger hadn’t been able to snuff that spark of hope in him, the one that insisted that her faith in him would stretch just a bit further, enough so that she would still love him. 

 

He’d been a bloody fool, and half of Skyhold had looked on when she proved as much.

 

He couldn’t really pinpoint when his shame had given way to the far more satisfying feeling of anger, but it had steadily grown over the months. She had cowed him like a dog and then ordered him to his post, expecting that he would obey, and he had without question, but that was then and this was now, and the now had resulted in a carefully cultivated passion. It was a heady concoction, a mixture of mounting rage and overbearing desire, fed and pruned until he was certain that he could grasp it in a steady hand and one day use it as a tool of his own distinct brand of retribution. That some dim and well buried part of him still loved her didn’t matter, any time he felt the weak pawing of his old infatuation, he need only remember the smooth and cultured turn of her phrase as she refused to take the heart he had offered.

 

He had to wonder as he watched her flit around the great hall as light as a butterfly, whether she had truly forgotten that he knew where her heart lived when behind closed doors, or did she believe he would never dare tell? Was it her utter assurance in her authority that allowed her to flaunt what he had lost with each brief touch upon a foreign hand or every falsetto laugh she gifted their boorish advances, or did she still trust dear old reliable Blackwall? 

 

He watched Cullen approach her now, watched him bow with an outstretched hand and his gut erupted like oil thrown onto flame as she took that hand and allowed herself to be led into a dance. The delighted whispers that ran the length of the hall made one of his hands curl into a trembling fist, his eyes transfixed on that leather gloved hand now pressed to her corseted waist. Oh the nobles would fucking eat this up with a dessert spoon, the dashing Commander and the heroic Inquisitor, what a suitably proper match to inspire the primped and coiffed bards of Orlais. 

 

He knew the poor fool loved her, if only because he recognised the same symptoms that had inflicted him, but the man had no idea what he was playing with, and Blackwall was seized by the urge to march on over to the stuttering idiot and tell him exactly what happened when the darkness was heavy enough for her to come out and play. Would the honourable Commander become as excited as he once did when she struggled and fought against him because she liked to force hands to hold her down and reign her in, would that fumbling mouth be able to pour scalding filth into her ear until she was slick and all but begging to be taken? She had liked to play the lady defiled and he had been all too happy to oblige, and now as he watched them both move in a sickeningly perfect unison, he felt himself becoming alarmingly hard when he imagined the perfect expression of dismay on Cullen’s face as ‘good old Blackwall’ desecrated his perfect image of a fairy tale princess.

 

Like a man hell bent on torturing himself, he watched the dance until it ended with the Commander looking down on her with a rapt expression, and he wondered how long it would be before the shy and tentative steps of courtship guided them both to the inevitable. They would all accept it of course, the Commander was a man of honour, not some lying low born murderer that had been shamed before so many eyes, the old bear of a man who had tricked the young and sweet maiden with his lies. He found himself moving, not towards the pair that now parted with half shy grins, but edging around the room now so occupied by this shameless display that none of them noticed him insinuate himself between the throne and the door to her chambers, and when a round of applause greeted this most ‘agreeable’ of matches, not one eye spied him slip inside, the door closing quietly behind him.

 

*

 

It was more than two hours before the sounds of revelry below grew quiet enough to indicate that the banquet was drawing to its close. He had spent that time sitting patiently on the bed they had once shared, quietly tending the twisted gardens of his desire. He had tried at first, to behave as a gentleman should, because her lineage meant she was truly a lady and that was what he had imagined was expected of him, This had satisfied her for but a short while before she began to first gently guide him towards darker places, and once he was hooked she’d finally showed him exactly who she was and what she wanted. He’d risen to the occasion, played the gentleman in public and her villain in every private space of Skyhold and beyond, and he had played both those parts exceptionally well, which was why he still marvelled at the fact that she considered herself ‘safe’ from the retribution she deserved. 

 

When he heard the distant sound of the lower door opening and closing he rose from the bed, forcing himself to be calm despite the pulsing ache in his groin as he stepped into the darkened corner by the door, unbuckling one of the belts about his waist, the leather creaking as both ends were wrapped around his fists. He heard the subtle brush of a silken hem on rough stone and grew harder, the leather between his fists growing as taut as the muscles in his forearms tensed, ready to spring in one explosive expression of movement. The door finally opened, its inward swing obscuring him further from her view, and the moment she stepped past him and into the room proper, he was behind her, the belt going over her head and pulling tight at her throat to stifle that initial sound of alarm.

 

She didn’t come anywhere close to matching his strength, she was built for the speed that her daggers demanded in order for her to bring her deadly skills up close and personal, and he had the advantage of surprise, allowing him to slip the end of the belt through it’s buckle and pull it taut again as her hands lifted to claw uselessly at the leather binding her voice. Now he had her on a leash of sorts and that satisfied him in so many ways. The momentum of his weight bore her to the nearest wall, crushing her against it’s coarse surface, a knee planting to the small of her back as she finally realised she wasn’t going to get her fingers beneath the belt and instead brought them behind her, recently manicured nails scraping over leather and metal. He felt the sting of those nails score over the back of his neck as he tugged the sash from about his waist with one hand and ground his knee harder into the small of her back. There was a precarious moment when he gripped the belt between his teeth and gathered up those hands to rest just above his planted knee, binding them tightly together because he had no intention of allowing her to wriggle free.

 

Once he had her bound to his satisfaction, he finally set his foot back to the floor in favour of pressing the full length of his body against hers, revelling in the way she tried to twist and slide out from between him and the wall, her breath caught in thin pants of exertion, the alluring glide of expensive silk against his armour prompting another insistent throb between his legs, that he was all too happy to share with a strong press of hips to her backside as his gravel-dragged-over-cement voice finally unfurled next to her ear.

 

“You’re learning to play the game well my lady, you’ve got them all fooled into thinking they’ve hitched their wagon to one of their own, i wonder how they would feel if they knew the only time you were ever truly yourself was when you were screaming for me to bury my cock in that precious cunt of yours”

 

He felt her stiffen and his lips lifted in a sneer of satisfaction as recognition took her, he even loosened the belt just enough to let her talk, ready to pull it tight again the moment she tried to cry out. He needn’t have worried of course, the moment she knew it was him the stupid bitch thought she could rely on the voice of her own command to get herself out of this, unknowing that this only served to make him want this all the more.

 

“Take these bindings off me now and perhaps you will be exiled instead of hung Blackwall. This is a foolish endeavour even for you, you aren’t going to rape me”

 

His laughter was a short bark and he pulled the belt tight again as his teeth found the curve between shoulder and throat in a brief but savage bite that made her squirm and buck against the wall, still trying to get away and only managing to rub herself against him each time her hips attempted to jerk to one side.

 

“Oh I’m not going to rape you Lady Trevelyan, i have no need for that when i know exactly where your mind lives when you think nobody is watching. This is what you’ve wanted all along, this is where all your filthy little games were leading to”

 

Lips found the reddened marks of his teeth and sucked at the flesh, she shivered and his whole body reacted in elation.

 

“You crafted the monster you wanted, you made me walk the dark with you and you fucking loved it when i finally caught on and gave you exactly what you needed”

 

He breathed hard against her neck, assaulted by the warm scent of jasmine and the underlying scent of her skin.

 

“There won’t be a need for exile sweet lady, by the time you wake up tomorrow I’ll be long gone because i have no desire to watch you play your games with our dear Commander. But I’ll take my due before I go. You should have left me in that cell Allegra”

 

His lips and tongue scorched the length of her throat, memory serving to remind him how this had always been the sirens call that lured her to her favourite dark places in his mind, hers too. He knew she hadn’t taken another lover, and given her appetites that could only mean that it was a matter of time before nature overtook common sense, and indeed when he loosens that belt just a fraction again, her gasp holds the edge of something she couldn’t hide, though she would of course try.

 

“Blackwall, you are better than this..don’t make me...”

 

He yanked her away from the wall now, keeping the belt firmly wrapped about one fist as she was dragged towards the balcony, the chill night air doing little to cool his blood while she still twisted in her bonds, now throwing a wide eyed look over her shoulder. This was a mistake, because through her protest he saw the enlarged pupils and that tell tale nervous sweep of tongue over lips. Oh he had no doubt her protests were real, she had a reputation to keep now that the eyes of the court were finally all for her, yet she couldn’t fight her nature and that was the very thing he was counting on.

 

A hard tug on the belt brought her to her knees before him, and his fingers were already working between layers of cloth and leather to the lacing that bound the harsh bulge that all but strained to find its way to her once more. Oh yes his body remembered this dance well, and try as she might she couldn’t stop her own eyes from drifting to the deft movement of his fingers, another sweep of that tongue over her hesitant lips making him twitch violently.

 

“Blackwall is dead my lady, he died the minute i stepped up on that gallows. My name is Thom Ranier, i suggest you practice every syllable of that name in your head while your mouth is occupied dear girl, you’ll be expected to scream it before the night's done”

 

The relief of loosened bindings was incredible, and when he drew himself out, stiff and proud in his clenched fist, she couldn’t help but stare as he dragged his hand upwards in one long, firm pull to produce a glistening bead of precum at the tip.

 

“You’ll give me what I want, what you’ve always wanted, because if you try to play the sweet, chaste girl we both know you aren’t, I’ll make sure every one of those nobles who bowed and scraped before the Inquisitor, knows exactly where your heart truly lies”

 

With that threat in place he pushed the engorged tip against her slightly parted lips, chuckling at the way she turned her head away, leaving a wet and damning trail along one cheek before he chased her movements and pressed more insistently, knowing that his that thick musky scent would already be finding all the right switches in her head. He looped more of the belt about his fist, tightening it enough that her breath was stolen from her. He watched her fight the inevitable, holding off the strain on her lungs until the last possible second when he loosened the belt and her lips parted in a gasp. 

 

He lost no time in slipping between the soft and now useless defences of her lips, tugging her forward to meet that first slow thrust into her waiting throat. An uncultivated growl pushed its way through gritted teeth when he felt the heat envelop him. Soft, warm, tightening around him in convulsions, he held her like that until her eyes widened and she gagged, the sudden pressure forcing a buck of his hips before he drew back until just the tip of him lay on her exquisite tongue.

 

His eyes bore down into hers with a depraved gleam, hips shifting enough to rub the thickened head back and forth over the agile muscle he knew was mere inches away from disobeying her wishes, because at a certain point she simply couldn’t help herself.

 

“You’d best set that mouth to doing what it does best Allegra or Maker help me, I’ll drag you down to your golden throne and fuck your pretty face where they can all see. Your choice, I’m damned already, i won't baulk at taking your good name with me”

 

She knew the inflections of truth in his voice by now, and though her eyes narrowed beneath her upturned lashes, she closed her mouth around him finally, facilitating the next long glide of his dick into her throat. He let the belt go at that point, all he had needed was that first threat to cease her pathetic protests, the rest would take care of itself, he knew her body well enough to rely upon that. If she expected him to fuck her mouth now she was sorely mistaken, he held himself still, an expectant brow lifting when she chanced a confused glance up at him when he didn’t move. No he wasn’t going to take her mouth, she would suffer the indignity of sucking his cock, knowing what it would do to her, knowing where it would take her.

 

He didn’t bother to stifle his groan when her lips finally tightened around him, her tongue cautiously rubbing the thick pulsing vein at the underside as she shifted on her knees enough to be able to draw those lips back and forth along the glistening length. She was still tentative, but he knew that the thick scent of him coupled with the texture that rasped over her tongue would reach for that hard wired place in her brain that revelled in all this. Meanwhile he set his fingers into the dipping neckline of a the dress that had exacerbated this whole mess, grunting with satisfaction when the material parted with a satisfying purr, just enough to show the upper half of her corset. 

 

Hands remembered the automatic gesture required in order to release the first few hooks that held the corset in place at the front, and there was a low grunt of satisfaction when the proud swell of full breasts spilled free into his waiting hands. He grasped the firm flesh with little sympathy, fingers indenting the skin when her lips tightened and nipples grew hard in response to the drag of his palms. He forced himself to slow down here, apply gentle tugs to the pert buds before his thumbs both soothed and exacerbated the sensation in circular, pressing sweeps. She tried gamely not to allow the expected response, but he could feel the suppressed sounds in the shape of her mouth and the brief compression of her throat. 

 

Now he tugged and added a cruel twist that finally drew a whimper from her throat, a sound that could easily be mistaken for pain alone if not for the way that she plunged her mouth down the entirety of his length in one practiced move. He bit back the smirk in favour of continuing to abuse her perfect tits, the resulting enthusiasm of her mouth growing in both pace and performance as instinct and her own depravity began to overshadow the wrongness of this situation. She had always been extremely sensitive and utterly responsive to the harsh treatment his hands could inflict, and now she began to take him with abandon as he relentless pursued her darker nature with fingers that continue to pinch and stroke the abused flesh. Her mouth and throat were the heaven he remembered, a place of trapped heat that swallowed him again and again, the occasional twist of her head changing the angle as she took him deep, the purposeful constrictions of her throat making his balls tighten before she would pull pack and take the tip with swift bobs of her head that began to loosen some of those chesnut curls from their elaborate pins.

 

He felt that gathering fist in his gut when those lips rasped over the tip of him, her tongue a fluttering, stroking tease that aimed to drive him over the edge, and he allowed her to do so, his deep bass groan unhidden as she dragged him close enough that the first heated spurt coated her tongue before he pulled back and dragged his own fist rapidly over the slickened length, taking pleasure in the confused light in her eyes before the rest of his seed struck the silk gathered in her lap. He had been tempted to unleash that first scalding wave of his revenge upon her pretty upturned face, it wouldn’t have been the first time, but there was more satisfaction to be had in despoiling the initial object of his ire, that spreading stain speaking more words than he’d ever be able to articulate.

 

She still looked half dazed by the time he had tucked himself away and hauled her to her feet by her shoulders, eyes slightly unfocused, lips partially swollen and shining. For just a few more seconds she is almost meek as a lamb, until he spun her about and folded her over the carved stone balcony, his hips once more keeping her in place and taking advantage of the way she tried to jerk and twist her way out of her enforced position, her eyes no doubt cast down to where guards still patrolled the walls and the grounds.

 

“Blackwall no, someone will see!”

 

“I don’t see as to how that would be my problem Allegra, they’ll only look up if you make a racket”

 

Hands gathered up silk, raising the hem inch by inch until he could push it up to the small of her back, his eyes immediately drawn to the confection of lace and silk that artfully framed the perfect rounded curve of her ass and hid her sex from his scrutiny. 

 

“Take hold of this, drop it and the guards will be the least of your worries when it comes to being seen”

 

The menace of his threat was enough for her fingers to curl awkwardly about the gathered material, leaving him free to run hands over the warmed silk while he wondered precisely who she was wearing such elaborate trappings for exactly? The question threatened to ignite more than desire, and for a moment it danced upon the end of his tongue until his touch followed the natural curve of her ass and dipped between her thighs, the material here damp and hot enough to steal his own composure for a second or two. Back when she had first begun carefully guiding him down the darkest parts of both their minds, some residual part of him had always been ready for the moment when she would suddenly decide he had gone to far beyond her expectations. In those moments she would take his hand and draw it to that incredible warmth between her legs as proof of what he did to her, and when fingers relented enough to delve beneath the simple cotton of her smalls he would find the unquestionable truth of her acceptance.

 

Her body had changed very little in his absence, and the addition of expensive undergarments hid it no better, when his fingers slipped beneath the silk he found her just as soaked as she would have been had she initiated this herself. He managed to centre his thoughts now, even when she bowed her head to stifle a small cry with lips pressed to stone, the image prompting him to lean over her back and place lips to her ear once more.

 

“How does it feel to have a body that doesn’t give two shits about how you try to hide. Just a few minutes ago you were telling me to stop, now you're soaking”

 

Without warning he plunged two fingers inside her wanton sex, almost purring when her ass lifted in an almost automatic gesture, her body always had been well trained to be almost obscenely responsive and this hadn’t changed either, nor had the way she panted and widened her stance in silent pleading. He could have made her beg, he wanted to make her beg, but the desire to see her come apart first was just too strong, and there was more satisfaction to be had in drawing those fingers back and forth in lazy strokes while the gravel of his voice slipped inside her head and made itself at home.

 

“You’re enjoying this a little more than you’d like to admit Inquisitor, what would the faithful think if they could see you now”

 

She wasn’t quick enough to stall the moan in her throat when those lazy digits decided to move with purpose, slamming into that slick heat, curling and beckoning over that one deep spot designed to turn her will to dust.

 

“They will never really see the true woman behind the throne, not the one I see every time I watch you sit upon that thing to pass your judgements”

 

Her only reply was a stifled moan that she pressed into the stone beneath her, but she had long since given up on trying to escape his attentions, now caught in a trap of her own making. The pads of his fingers drove over that roughened spot of pleasure over and over, the palm of his hand striking her ass with each angled thrust, knuckles pushing and dragging, making it hurt just enough so that the integral lines of pain and pleasure began to blur for her, as they always did sooner or later. He looked down long enough to see silk being twisted fitfully in her hands and knew that she desired to slip one of those hands between her own thighs in order to ply fingers to her neglected clit, a sure sign that she was close enough to be desperate already. He played her like a well loved instrument, stroking hot, inner walls until she began to forget the urgency of staying quiet, every breath leaving her lips in low and tortured moans that simply served to feed his cruelty.

 

The more she gave in, the more he wanted to tear her down until all the trappings of the Inquisitor and nobility were torn away and she was just a desperate woman with a hunger that wouldn’t be denied, a base creature who could claim to be no better than the next man or woman.

 

The wildly desperate look she threw over one shoulder when his fingers abruptly left her, brought fire to his gut and already he could feel himself hardening again. But it wasn’t enough, he hadn’t quite driven her to that perfect edge of oblivion where she forgot everything but the need between her legs, he was close to pushing her there, he could feel it, she trembled just upon the edge with only a few remaining strands of decency left to hold her in place.

 

Hands snatched at hips and spun her, pressing her back to the stone as he dropped to his knees, though there wasn’t an ounce of supplication in his eyes when she looked down at him now. One leg was thrown over a broad shoulder, a hand sliding along the curve of her ass to draw her sex to his mouth like an over brimming cup. She whined when his lower lip brushed her clit, a single flick of his tongue making her legs tremble like a newborn colts. He kept her on that tense curve for a good few minutes, waiting for her breath to even out before his tongue would give a single stroke and her whole body would strain towards his mouth, only to be denied again and again. 

 

“For the makers sake Thom...please!”

 

He could have made her beg more, he should have forced her to elaborate, but his true name had been barred from her lips for a long time, perhaps in denial or maybe she had simply chosen to be stubborn, it didn’t matter. His lips closed around that centre point of pleasure and he sucked, fingers assulting that needy heat all over again in quick, unforgiving thrusts. Her first cry was almost too high for anyone but a damn dog to hear and this prompted his tongue to lash swiftly over the captured nub until she finally released an honest scream, that liquid heat coating his hand while she tightened like a vice, bucking on his fingers.

 

He tore free of her with no warning, rising back to his feet, one hand gripping her jaw to force her dazed eyes to the burning blue of his own.

 

“There you are, from Lady to whore on just a few strokes of a tongue”

 

His kiss was a bruising punishment, a violation of her mouth that shared the heady, sweet taste of her sex. She was struggling against her bindings once more, only this time it was clear that all she wanted was to touch and press and grind against the hard lines of his body, a want that he denied her as he pulled away, leaving her lips wet and swollen, and her eyes blind to anything but the thing she wanted most right now. There had been a time, not too long ago, when he had longed to see that almost crazed hunger in her eyes directed at him once again, he still wanted it, but his reasons were of an entirely different nature now.

 

His stride took him to her closet now, he could feel her eyes tracking his every move as he opened the door and rummaged inside, finally extracting her old travelling cloak. She barely wore it these days, with Corypheus gone the heavily oiled leathers and furs had been exchanged for the velvets and silks suitable for presenting herself to the nobles that came crawling, in his eyes this had made her no less of a whore then she looked now, at least this version of her was honest. He wasted no time in throwing the heavy cloak over her shoulders, securing it into place by its front clasp and twitching the folds until it hid the stained and torn dress beneath, all too aware of the wide and searching expression of her eyes as she tried to make out which part of the game they were playing now. 

 

By the time he was done with adjusting the heavy folds of cloth about her dishevelled form, his critical eye decided that she was at least presentable enough to make it from her room to the courtyard without drawing much in the way of the usual attention she gathered. 

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

She tried for strength in her words, but the faintest edge of fear touched the careful syllables and rage unfurled in his gut again, crawling up his throat in a growl because he knew she didn’t fear him hurting her. It was the threat of discovery, the threat of appearing as less in their eyes that scared her now, when just a year ago she hadn’t given a damn about what anyone might have thought, not so long as she could get the job in front of her done. In this, she had allowed them to change her, to shape her from the wild thing that had drawn him into this deadly dance to someone who cared for the opinions of men and women who would betray her the moment it might look as though her seat of power could tremble.

 

He swallowed the rage down again, feeling it’s denied burn roil in his belly as a hand struck forward and sunk fingertips into one of her bound arms, drawing her body to his side in a parody of affection that had once been real.

 

“Because sooner or later you’ll look back on this as the one last honest moment of your life Allegra”

 

It didn’t occur to him as he led her down the stairs from her chambers, that she might cry out and alert one of her guards, she had bound herself with the fear of discovery just as tightly as he’d bound her arms, and no power in Thedas would prompt her to draw unnecessary attention now. She walked stiffly at his side, unwilling to allow that well placed cloak to shift even the smallest amount, not while it hid her indignity.

 

As he led her through the now empty hall, he found the rage beginning to dull, or at least to rest for now, suppressed by the idea that now began to bloom in his mind as he turned them both away from the open atrium that he’d been leading them towards. It had been his intention to have her on the floor of the stables, down in the dust and the straw while he watched her suppress her own treacherous voice. The inn would have been far too close for her own comfort, even now he could hear the faint sounds of the party that continued within. But now a new thought had occurred, a reflective twist of his own mind that seemed to fit far better than the original idea. He felt her shoulders sag with something that was likely relief when he turned her away from those open doors, and did his best not to smirk again as he guided them towards the singular door that led out into Skyholds gardens.

 

She should have known better.

 

By the time dawn rolled over the waning night, she would know better, and by then, it would already be too late.

**Author's Note:**

> I admit, i posted this while suffering from a nasty cold/chest infection, so if its terrible...blame it on my snot-filled delirium!!


End file.
